


Summer Wages

by extraneous_accessories



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:25:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9243914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraneous_accessories/pseuds/extraneous_accessories
Summary: "Hell of a storm we're going to have tonight.""Yeah," Poe agrees, pulling his eyes from Luke's face to look up at the rolling clouds. "So how come you're doing the hard work, aren't the kids supposed to be taking care of this kind of thing?"Luke shrugs, "It's fair weekend," he says, looking a bit sheepish. "They're all way more concerned with getting organized and getting enough sleep for the show tomorrow." Poe struggles to search for something else to ask as Luke looks down, a hint of red crawling up his neck from under the collar of his shirt."Um, I was going to ask you, actually," Luke says, and Poe feels his stomach clench, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come along. Tomorrow, I mean. It's a fun afternoon, if you like riding, I guess, there are some pretty talented kids. So, yeah. Just thought I'd let you know. If you want to come."Poe feels the smile come to his face right up from the middle of him. "Are you asking me out?"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leupagus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leupagus/gifts).



Early morning sun on the soft folds of the duvet. Luke's eyes flutter open unwillingly as he clings to the last threads of sleep. There is a warmth beside him and he reaches out, feeling BB's fur under his fingers. She snuffles, flopping her head to look over at him with those trusting eyes. "You know, I was told you weren't supposed to be on the bed," Luke tells her. Which is true. Mr. Dameron had been quite clear about how the border collie was to be treated while he was away, even leaving her special food and a bed. Luke has made a solid effort to follow the instructions, but BB had been quite content to curl up with him wherever he was all weekend. On the couch, on the deck, on the bathroom rug while he showered and on the bed while he slept. She hadn't minded sharing food with Artu either, just as content to eat no name brand dog food as she was to eat the stuff that came out of the fancy bag and cost an arm and a leg. Luke had found himself admiring her easy going nature and hadn't had the heart to order her outside onto her bed at night. It got cold at night this time of year, and he couldn't quite bring himself to make such a lovely lady uncomfortable. BBs tail thumps gently against his leg, and he groans, rolling onto his back and glorying in a long, luxurious stretch.

He still isn't sure why he's agreed to take the dog. Han had phoned him up out of the blue the Monday previous, asking if Luke could do one of his interior design profs a favour.

"He's a city guy, but he's alright," Han had hedged, "he's taking some students up to Toronto for a conference and he's losing it cuz he can't find a decent place to leave his dog."

"What kind of dog?" Luke had asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Collie of some kind," Han had answered dismissively. His brother in law was a man of many qualities, but dogs were not his forte.

"Sure, tell him to give me a call."

Luke had never had much to do with the ID program, spending most of his class time in a different building-sometimes a different quarter section, but he'd heard the ladies at student services gushing about the newest instructor, all the way out from Montreal. Handsome, charming, and a very nice man by all accounts, if a little high strung.

High strung was right on, as he'd found when he'd picked up his phone half an hour after Han's call.

"Hi, can I speak with Mr. Skywalker, please?"

"You've got him."

"This is Poe Dameron calling, Mr. Skywalker," he'd said the name so fast Luke would have missed it if he hadn't known it already, "Mr. Solo mentioned you might be able to take my dog?"

Luke had agreed, then listened patiently to a very long, very detailed explanation of her breed, Ftemperament, sleep habits, and dietary requirements. When Dameron had stopped to take a breath, he'd said "Why don't you bring her out here and see how she likes the place?"

"Oh. Sure. Yeah, that's probably a great plan. When would be a good time? Where are you?"

Luke had patiently given his address and told Dameron to come whenever he liked.

"My last class is at 4, dinner's on at 5:15."

BB touches her cold nose to his arm, nudging him until his hand falls onto her head. Shaking his head at her insistence, Luke gives her an obliging scratch behind the ears. "You're right," he groans, sitting up, "it's time for coffee."

The fall sun twists and cascades through the golden leaves of the old oak tree in the yard, making shadows flicker and dance on the kitchen cupboard as he rustles around in the cabinet for grounds and the old camp coffee pot. Leia always reminds him when she visits that he has a perfectly serviceable drip coffee machine, but he prefers the strong, bitter stovetop coffee. It makes him feel alive.

It bubbles merrily away on the stove as he pulls the dog food from the pantry. Artu and C3 come barreling down the hall from the laundry room when he shakes the bag, and he lets all three dogs onto the deck. The morning air is crisp with the promise of frost, and he feels goosebumps rise on his bare chest as he fills three bowls. BB looks like a puppy next to the two massive German shorthairs, but they'd found on her first day with them that trying to take her food was more effort than it was really worth.

She's a scrappy little thing, and Luke entertains, not for the first time, the idea of taking her out for an afternoon duck hunt. There is nothing better in life, he is quite certain, than the acrid scent of gunpowder mixed with the sharp taste of autumn air. A walk, at least, he decides as he muses over frying eggs. A walk will do them all very well. It's her last day with them anyway, and they could all handle some exercise. If they wait a bit, maybe Mr. Dameron will even join them. He'll need a walk himself after that flight back from Toronto.

He finds it hard to keep his mind from drifting back to Tuesday night. Mr. Dameron had been younger than Luke had expected, and just as attractive as he'd been told by the student services ladies. He had been energetic, dressed to the nines, full of concern for BB, and anxious that Luke know everything about her. Luke had realized over coffee that evening that it was going to be much more difficult for Mr. Dameron to be without BB than it was going to be for her to do without him.

"She'll be in excellent hands," Luke had assured him countless times over the evening, "I promise."

Those worried brown eyes had fixed him in their gaze across the table. "Good."

He pauses in his washing up, examining the sudden tingling in his belly as the image of those pretty eyes comes back to him.

He's long since gotten comfortable with the idea of being alone. The dogs are fine company, and he sees enough of people at work these days between classes and admin nonsense to fill up his socialization quota nicely. People are fine on the whole, but always something to be appreciated at arm's length.

So why not this one?

The question follows him out into the field, pooling in the shadows his footprints leave in the soft earth on the track to the pond. It sits in the back of his mind as he lists all the reasons why this feeling sprouting in his chest is absolutely not attraction. He's a city boy. Probably couldn't bait a fish hook or clean a duck if his life depended on it. He teaches interior design which, if past instructors are any indication, is mostly a program for rich city people to teach rich city people how to help still other, richer city people how to make their houses look more Modern. Deer antlers go on necklaces in miniature, Leia's told him, not over the fire in life size. How Han ever got into the business is a mystery to Luke, but these days it seems like he mostly just runs around after Leia and fights with the timetable every year. He's also far too young to possibly be interested in an aging ag instructor, Luke continues, returning to his list, and far too high strung for the kind of life Luke has come to appreciate. Anyone who couldn't sit in the deck and enjoy a cup of coffee on Saturday mornings wasn't his type of person.

No. This strange tightness in his chest, this nervous anticipation of seeing Mr. Dameron tonight is just...well it's damn unsettling, but couldn't possibly be attraction. Regard, perhaps, or pleasure at finding someone else who appreciated a smart dog with a big heart, but not attraction. Nope.

Which is why, when the clock chimes ten, the worry that clenches in Luke's heart is just a general concern for the safety of another. Dameron had said he would be around by eight and, while Luke certainly had no plans for his Sunday night, he is starting to get concerned.

The thunder of the last autumn storm rumbles in the night as the minutes slip by. It begins to rain. BB curls around his legs where he's sprawled on the couch in a vain attempt to relax and read. Her head rests on his thigh, warm and comforting. Artu and C3 are curled on their rug by the fireplace, basking in its heat. Luke tries to read. The tick of the old grandfather clock in the corner presses on his mind, making the words slide off the page and he finally abandons Torrents of Spring altogether, tossing his reading glasses down on the coffee table after it.

"Looks like you might have to stay with me again," he says to BB, scratching her behind the ears. He's almost decided to call Poe and make sure he didn't get his dates messed around when the doorbell rings.

Poe stands on his front step, rain dripping from his curly hair, looking as though he's been dragged backwards through a hedge before a thorough soaking. His striped tie is askew, vest undone, coat open and flapping under the wild touch of the wind. Luke can see dark smudges under his eyes behind his glasses and he's dripping wet.

"Come on in," he says, waving Poe through the door.

"Thanks." The nervous energy from the week before is subdued now, bubbling under the heavy layer of exhaustion that sits on Poe's shoulders like a rock

"Here, give me your coat," Luke holds out a hand, "I'll throw it in the dryer." He takes Poe's coat, then reconsiders as he notices the small puddle growing on his welcome mat. "On second thought, I'd better just throw everything in," he amends. "Come on, I've got some stuff you can wear while the dryer's working its magic. Do you want a drink?"

Poe sighs heavily, "God yes. It doesn't even have to be alcoholic."

Luke laughs as he leads Poe down the hall to the master bedroom. "Don't worry, I've got a decent medicinal supply."

Luke waits until they're settled on the couch, Poe wrapped in his threadbare housecoat nursing a warmed glass of rum, before he asks.

"So do you want to talk about it?" BB has curled up across Poe's lap and he's petting her absently. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"Do you want me to start with stupid people or the devilry that is all things mechanical?"

Luke tries not to laugh at his air of righteous indignation. "Whichever is easiest for you."

"Well, I did get back to town on time, believe it or not, but I got cornered by the chairman of the faculty association demanding to know just what I thought I was doing with my timetable this semester and where I thought he was going to get all of those hours and hadn't I read the collective agreement?"

Luke smirks. Hux, instructor of biology and chair of the faculty association, was not known for either his decent work hours or his mild manner.

"Then one of the kids had forgotten her luggage in the bus, so there was that whole mess. I locked myself out of my office, dropped my phone in a puddle on my way to the car and, to top the evening off, my car died three miles from your house."

"Why didn't you call me?" Luke asks in disbelief, " I could have come and picked you up."

"Phone." Poe says simply, holding one hand over his rum, fingers jerking out as he mimed the drop, "puddle. It's completely fried."

"Oh shit," Luke says sympathetically, unconsciously resting one hand on Poe's knee, "that sounds like the day from hell, I'm sorry."

"Thanks," Poe says, running a distracted hand through his damp curls, which were starting to fluff up in the heat from the fire. He looks up, a rueful grin on his face, "Sorry I'm late."

Luke can't help laughing this time. "It's no problem, I was just thinking I'd got my dates mixed up or something."

The steady tumble of the dryer and the soft hiss and pop of the fire fill the room. Luke can't help noticing just how attractive this city boy really is. The fire glows on his dark hair, and the housecoat certainly showcases the sweep and curve of his collarbones in a way that a shirt and tie could never hope to match. He swallows hard, taking another sip of his whiskey.

"So, did you manage to get some dinner during your day from hell?" He asks, trying desperately to keep his tone light and casual. He just wants to know how many eggs to cook, anyway.

Poe leans his head back on the couch, a picture of dejected defeat. "No. No, I did not." Luke smiles, trying not to think about the perfect lines of Poe's neck and jaw.

"How do you like your eggs?" He asks, rising carefully from the couch, trying not to dislodge BB in the process.

"What? Oh, Luke, you really don't have to, I was just bitching," Poe says hurriedly, a flush rising to his cheeks.

"I'm cooking for myself anyway," Luke says with a shrug, which is mostly true, "and two more eggs won't make a difference. So how do you like them?"

"However you like yours," Poe follows him to the kitchen, leaving BB curled up on the couch.

"That doesn't count," Luke chides. "Over easy? Cooked to shit? Runny as hell? Omelette? Scrambled? I'd offer Benedict, but I can't make a decent hollandaise to save my life, so that one's out."

"Scrambled would be amazing," Poe says with a laugh, and Luke feels a warm glow of satisfaction. Helping people out is always satisfying, so that’s nothing to be concerned about. 

The smell of frying onions fills the kitchen as Luke cracks eggs into the pan. "You cook much?" Pow asks, looking over his shoulder. Luke shrugs.

"Enough to feed myself. Had a friend who was a chef when he was younger, he taught me a few things. Can't bake for the life of me, but that's what the co-op's for, I guess."

Poe nods, just watching. "Is all of this fresh?" He asks as Luke tips a cutting board full of mushrooms and peppers into the pan.  
"...Yes?" Luke answers warily, "why?"

Poe looks sheepish. "The only thing I can cook is toast and beans, and I'm not terribly good at it. I am a master of KD and hotdogs and king of the microwave dinner."

Luke laughs, adding this point to his ever growing list of reasons he should not try to kiss his houseguest, and trying not to think about how Poe probably needed someone in his life who could cook.

"It's just fascinating to watch," Poe continues enthusiastically. His hands are draped loosely in the pockets of the housecoat and the elderly fabric has relaxed in the front, showing off increasing amounts of his chest to excellent advantage. Luke returns his attention firmly to dinner.

"I'm glad it's not boring you. Do you have any questions or anything?"

"No, I'm just consumed with jealousy," Poe says equably. "Though I warn you," he adds, looking up with a mischievous grin, "now that I know you can cook, I fully intend to make you teach me sometime."

"I'd be delighted to!" Luke says, more quickly than he had intended. He hopes the heat in his face doesn't look as bright as it feels. "I do quite enjoy food," he says, dishing the scrambled concoction onto a pair of mismatched plates. Having finally mastered his embarrassment, he meets Poe's eyes. "Dining room or living room?" Poe shrugs, keeping his eyes on Luke's.

"Wherever you're most comfortable is fine with me."

"The dogs will get lonely without us," Luke decides, mercifully breaking from Poe's intense gaze to carry the plates and cutlery to the coffee table.

Poe follows with their drinks and they settle into the meal.

"Thank you for this," Poe says gratefully, "it tastes amazing. I didn't know scrambled eggs got this fancy."

"These are hardly fancy," Luke brushes off the compliment, unwilling to acknowledge the leap his heart makes at Poe's praise.

"They are by my books," Poe insists, "and thank you for letting me dry off, I must be keeping you up late."

"Not really," Luke says honestly, "I'm a bit of a night owl." He watches Poe eating, mesmerized by the small movements of his face and hands. He is about to ask whether Poe needs a ride home when Poe looks up, meeting his gaze. Luke flushes, embarrassed to be caught staring, but finds himself unable to look away. He mentally reviews his list of reasons that he should just get up right now and do the dishes, just forget about the sudden electric spark that lit in his belly at the earnest attention of those brown eyes, but he finds the list rapidly dwindling.

"You have a beautiful home, Luke," Poe says, his eyes leaving Luke's face to take in the elegant lift of the living room ceiling, the broadly dressed stone of the fireplace. He sets his plate on the coffee table, curling back into the couch with his rum. "I do have to say, I've been wondering what kind of house the department chair's crazy brother lives in."

"Oh?"

"Well, to hear her talk about you, I was a little concerned, but I figured a guy who gives kittens away to small children couldn't be all that bad," Poe smiles at him, and Luke is suddenly suspicious that he may in fact be being flirted with.

"Does my sister use me as an example of how not to interior design?" He asks, pushing the thought away.

Poe laughs, and the sound is an assault on Luke's self control. "She often regales the staff with tales of your poor taste, yes." He turns to examine the fireplace, studying the spreading elk antlers over the mantle. "But I think it's more a matter of preference than ability to use space. Those antlers are very impressive, and you've shown them off well right where they are."

"Well, thank you," Luke says, unsure of how to respond.

"Yes, I was quite pleased to discover that your taste isn't as woeful as I'd been led to believe." Poe turns away from the fireplace, eyes resting on Luke as he drained the last of his rum.

Luke is spared the necessity of responding by the buzz of the dryer. He flees the couch, grateful for the relative safety of the laundry room as he tries to sort through the tangled mess of his feelings. He is now almost certain that he's being flirted with, and his list of reasons to drive Poe and BB safely home is being outdone by the growing list of ways in which Poe is probably one of the more attractive men he's met. Unbidden, the memory of their first conversation creeps into his mind. He had anticipated that Poe would leave after they had talked about BB, but their conversation had just stretched on and on, covering topics that Luke didn't know people even talked about. Politics and religion had always been forbidden subjects in the Skywalker home, but Poe had expressed passionate opinions on pretty near every subject under the sun, and Luke had found himself enjoying the conversation immensely.

He pulls Poe's warm clothes from the dryer, trying focus on the task at hand and not on just how much he’s attracted to this high strung city kid.

"You don't have to fold them." Luke jumps at the touch of Poe's hand on his shoulder. He turns and they’re face to face, Poe very much in his space. He’s pressed back against the dryer and finds no space left to escape to, confronted at last with the reality of his desire as Poe steps close, his arm brushing against Luke as he takes the shirt from his hands.

"Really," he says with that charming smile, "I can't cook but I can fold my own shirt."

"Oh." Luke runs his tongue over dry lips.

Poe frowns in concern, studying Luke's face, only just seeming aware of his discomfort. "Are you okay?"

"Sorry," Luke says very quietly, "I've just been constantly on the edge of trying to kiss you all evening and you're standing very, very close to me-" the 'right now' dies in his throat as Poe's lips press gently against his.

It's a question, coloured with hesitation, and Luke can't help himself from answering it, returning the kiss with enthusiasm.

Poe pulls back, studying Luke's face with a slight frown. "Sorry," he whispers, "I've been wondering what that would feel like since I met you."

"And?" 

Poe flushes, looking aside."I mean, I liked it," he murmurs.

A sudden fear rises in Luke’s heart at Poe’s words, and he finds himself fighting for his words, the blush travelling down his neck and over his chest. “I think everything is dry,” he said at last, running an agitated hand through his hair, “I should probably get you two home. Can I offer you a ride?” 

“Oh.” Something fades in Poe’s eyes, to Luke’s mingled relief and despair, “Sure. Yeah, a ride would be great. Thanks.” 

*

Thunder rolls in the distance and the wind whips Poe's hair against his face as he walks across the quad, camera slung around his neck. The sky is the blue-black he's only ever seen in films, with great billowing cloud banks threatening to soak them very soon. As he walks out towards the cluster of farm buildings and fields on the south end of campus, he sees the image he's been seeking. The trees and fields are a patchwork of greens and the yellow splash of the canola crop pops vividly against the angry colour of the sky.

The sight sends a thrill of electric energy down his spine. They might be big, flat, wide, and boring, but the prairies are putting on a show for him tonight and he's impressed despite himself. Lightning crackles down, stark and chilling across the blue, and Poe wonders if he's ever felt more alive. The thunder resonates so deep he can feel it in his bones and he decides he probably hasn't.

The rush of the storm helps to drive away some of the tension of the week. Hux hadn't seen fit to leave it at chewing him out, but had decided to get the dean involved and Poe had spent a very tense afternoon in Dr. Snoke's office defending his choice to not sign off on his workload until they sorted out the various timetable conflicts, hours distribution, and course loads. He wants what's best for his students more than anything, but he's only human and he'll be damned if he lets an asshole like Snoke run him into the ground.

Of course, there was also the issue of Sunday night. He had tried every deep breathing full body relaxation shit he could find to try to get the thought of that kiss in Luke's laundry room out of his mind, but no matter what he tried it always crept back in when he needed it the least. Like this morning, when Leia had been complaining vociferously over coffee about her brother and how he was never going to meet anyone ever if he spent all of his time out in the woods with only his horse and the coyotes for company. Han had added a somewhat less than complimentary suggestion about the horse, and Poe had felt his face grow hot as he desperately tried to deflect the conversation to where Luke had learned to ride and did Leia know how too? It was such a neat hobby, he didn't know anything about it... The topic of riding lessons had mercifully carried them through coffee without incident, until Leia casually mentioned that Luke still taught riding and helped out with the local 4H light horse club all the time. Poe had been impressed with his ability to respond casually to this new information, though he had been plagued for the rest of the afternoon by the distressingly heartwarming image of Luke, with his kind eyes and windswept hair, leading children around on horses.

None of these things were helping him with the feeling that he'd completely blown his chances. He could have sworn that there had been something in that kiss, something...he didn't know what, but he hadn't been kissed that well in years, he knew that. Not even by that intern from Chicago, and she'd known her business pretty damn well. He knew he hadn't imagined it, but afterwards it had been like a wall had come up between them. Luke had been courteous, letting him change and offering to take him and BB home, but the drive through the rain had been one of the longest of his life, the awkward silence only soothed by the slap of the wipers and the lonely strains of Ian Tyson's Summer Wages.

Anger at Luke's music choice burns through the sick feeling of embarrassment he felt at the memory. What kind of self-respecting person actually listens to that kind of thing? The more he learns about Luke the more he’s becoming convinced that he’s some sort of modern day cowboy. Even worse, he doesn’t seem to be doing it ironically. He really does like the look of antlers on his wall, and probably wears cowboy boots to funerals, the bastard. Poe kicks vengefully at a pebble on the gravel path that led to the farm. He shouldn't like Luke. He’s the stereotype of every silly story he's been told about Albertans, from his farmer's tan to his dusty truck, and it irks him.

In no small part because, in spite of all these things, he’s still so goddamn likeable. The campus is small, and the universe obviously has it out for him, because he hadn't been able to keep from seeing Luke everywhere all week. Walking across the quad, listening to Dr. Antilles rant about veterinary medicine in the cafeteria, dropping off his textbook list at the bookstore. And every time, Poe would feel a shiver crawl up his spine at the way Luke could turn on that easy charm of his, that smile that lit up the whole room. He’s finding it increasingly difficult to come up with reasons why he shouldn't find his boss's brother incredibly attractive, which only makes the memory of Sunday night bother him more.

He reaches the edge of the farm area, marvelling at the rippling wave of the wind across the wheat field. A noise from behind him catches his attention, drawing it away from the display of the storm. Poe feels his stomach drop as he sees Luke, sweat soaking his ridiculous plaid shirt, pitching hay into a pen of expectant horses. He looks over his shoulder, eyeing the clouds with a critical frown, and Poe sees him start as their eyes meet.

'Shit,' Poe mutters under his breath. Every fibre of him urges him to break and run, dreading the awkwardness of trying to talk to Luke, but then he smiles and Poe feels his blood turn hot.

"Hell of a storm we're going to have tonight," Luke calls. Poe nods. His feet feel rooted to the ground as Luke thrusts the pitchfork into the bale and walks towards him.

"You're here pretty late," Poe finds his voice at last, "they got you working overtime?"

Luke laughs, a full, happy sound. "It's only overtime if they pay you. But no," he adds, "these are 4H horses for town kids that don't have a place to keep them. The college rents them pasture space." He stands looking up at the approaching storm, hands in his pockets. "It's sure spectacular, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Poe agrees, pulling his eyes from Luke's face to look up at the rolling clouds. "So how come you're doing the hard work, aren't the kids supposed to be taking care of this kind of thing?"

Luke shrugs, "It's fair weekend," he says, looking a bit sheepish. "They're all way more concerned with getting organized and getting enough sleep for the show tomorrow." Poe struggles to search for something else to ask as Luke looks down, a hint of red crawling up his neck from under the collar of his shirt.

"Um, I was going to ask you, actually," Luke says, and Poe feels his stomach clench, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come along. Tomorrow, I mean. It's a fun afternoon, if you like riding, I guess, there are some pretty talented kids. So, yeah. Just thought I'd let you know. If you want to come."

Poe feels the smile come to his face right up from the middle of him. "Are you asking me out?"

"Yeah, I guess I am." Luke's face is quite flushed now, and Poe can feel the heat rising to his own cheeks, "if you still want to come. I, uh...well Sunday wasn't my finest moment."

"No, I'd love to come!" The words tumble out of him before he has a chance to think about it. Luke smiles and it looks like a weight has dropped from his shoulders.

"Great. Awesome. So can I pick you up tomorrow morning?"

"Sure."

"Okay." They stand there in the rising wind for a long moment, until the whinnying of the horses breaks into their contemplation of each other.

"I should finish up," Luke says softly, though he makes no move to go, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

The grin doesn't fade from his face all the way back to his car.

*

Poe's new phone buzzes on his bedside table just as the sun is beginning to light the sky. He groped for it in the dark and sees Luke's name flash across the screen.

"How do you like your tim's?"

He shoots back "classic Canadian DD, why?" Before snuggling back into the warm cocoon of his blankets. He tries to hold on to sleep, but the text has awoken the colony of adult mating butterflies that moved into his stomach when he met Luke, so he lays fretting under the covers until his alarm goes off and he drags himself to the shower.

He's not sure what to expect from the day. The whole town has been buzzing about this fair for months, but so far all he's been able to find out about it is that it's a chance to drink and watch cowboys do strange things on horseback. Which, while potentially very entertaining, doesn't sound like it's worth the kind of hype he's seen in the last month. People take time off work, plan out their parade spot weeks in advance, and at least three of his colleagues have relatives coming from as far away as Québec. It's mystifying and, he admits as he reaches for his towel, more than a little terrifying.

He should feel reassured that he's going with a local, but that local is Luke, so instead he stands in front of his closet trying to decide what the hell he's supposed to wear.

Is it casual? Semi casual? Jeans? He checks the weather, noticing that Luke hasn't responded to his text. In the end he opts for jeans and a Tragically Hip shirt, hoping it doesn't rain and that he won't be the only person there who isn't wearing cowboy boots.

BB leaps up when he walk into the kitchen, tail wagging so hard she can't walk straight.

"Yeah, I know, you're the cutest pup and you're starving." She rolls over on her back and he obligingly crouches down in the floor to give her a belly rub.

"Just look what you've gotten me into," he mutters, "going off to some weird cowboy thing with a boy. Let's just hope I come back in one piece."

*

Poe is unprepared for his pickup. It's not that he isn't ready, not as such. He has his keys, his wallet and, when he steps out his front door he even has his brains, but when he looks up from locking his door to see Luke standing on his sidewalk holding a cup of Tim's coffee, every thought flies from his head.

"Double double, as ordered," Luke says, and his smile turns Poe's insides to tomato soup.

"Thanks," he manages, slipping his keys into his pocket.

"You look good," Luke opens the door of his battered Ford ranger and slides in, gesturing for Poe to do the same.

"You're not too bad yourself."

Luke gives a nonchalant shrug as Poe climbs in. Poe tries very hard not to be distracted by the ripple of muscle beneath Luke's black tshirt as he starts the truck.

"So I'll pass cowboy muster?" he says, taking a sip of the coffee. The sweet warmth floods through him, comforting and familiar.

Luke laughs, a sound of childish delight. "Oh, yes. I'm sorry I didn't give you a dress code. I forget this is all new for you."

"It's fine, I managed alright."

Luke's eyebrows lift slightly and a small grin plays at the corners of his mouth. "I'll say you did."

Poe flushes scarlet, dipping his head to examine the white chalk Ds on the lid of his coffee.

"Sorry," Luke's voice is soft over the purr of the car engine.

"Apology accepted." Poe tries to hide his grin, "So what should I expect?"

"It depends a bit on what we decide to do, but this morning is mostly just kids riding around in circles on horseback." He glances over at Poe, a rueful grin on his face, "not terribly exciting, I'm afraid, but the little ones are fairly cute."

"No, I'm sure it'll be interesting," Poe hurries to say, "I don't know anything about horses, so you'll have to put up with my questions."

And it is interesting. Poe finds himself growing accustomed to the strange words called out by the stuffy looking woman in the covered box by the ring, finds himself watching for how the horses' feet change and the way the riders shift in the saddle. Luke's patient voice in his ear, enthusiastically pointing out the way the little ones lift their hands too high, or bring their heels in too far.

The sunlight glitters in Luke's hair, catches in the intricate web of his eyes. Poe finds it almost as interesting to watch him as he does to watch the riding. He's never been shown anything with such excitement before, and it warms his heart to hear Luke talk about these students, his hopes mingled together with theirs, his nervous anticipation of placings.

The final event, however, leaves Luke sitting on the bleachers in sullen silence, his arms crossed in disapproval as his eyes follow a dark haired girl out of the ring.

"I take it that didn't go the way you'd hoped?" Poe asks carefully.

"Huh," Luke scoffs, leaning forward onto his elbows, "it went better than I ever could have hoped. That's Rey," he explains, pointing towards the girl. She has freed her hair from her black cowboy hat and is rapidly drawing it into a trio of buns at the back of her head. "She's the best student I've had in ten years, and she rode better today than I've ever seen her ride."

Poe frowns. "But she didn't place...all that well."

Luke's face twists in a grimace. "No," he says bitterly, "she didn't. And it's bullshit. That," he continues, pointing to a sullen youth on a dappled Appaloosa mare, "is my nephew Ben." He sighs heavily. "I do love him dearly, but he rides like a sack of potatoes. And that's on a good day. Unfortunately, the judge teaches at the school. Seems to think Ben walks on water. Which is why Rey didn't sweep this class by twenty points."

"I'm sorry," Poe says. Unsure of what to say, he puts a comforting hand on Luke's knee. To his surprise, Luke threads their fingers together, squeezing Poe's hand gently.

"Thank you." He takes a deep breath, then looks up at Poe with a smile, "So, apart from that disaster, what did you think?"

"It was good! I learned a lot. And it's very clear that you care about them." Luke's face brightens at his approval, the disappointment of the last class seemingly gone from his mind.

"I'm glad. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, actually."

Luke stands, his hand still wrapped around Poe's. "Then let me show you the best flapper pie in the county."

"Sounds intriguing." Poe allows himself to be led past the petting barn, through the press of people to a tiny brown building near the back of the grounds. It has to be a million degrees in there, he's sure if it, but the front window is packed with little old ladies and bemused middle-ages gentlemen who look distressed to find themselves flipping burgers in 30 degree weather. The line stretches around the corner.

"Go ahead and find us a table in the shade," Luke says, letting go of Poe's hand, "I'll order. What do you want to drink?"

"Something liquid," Poe says, regretting the absence of Luke's hand in his, "I'm not picky."

He squeezes through the crowd of people gathered around the booth and sits down at the only table left in the shade. It's a long wait for the food, but he gets more than his money's worth watching the eager dismay of the twenty or so children trying to wash their animals in the stalls behind the arena. It's messy work and the air is filled with the sounds of wet and distressed cattle, sheep, and horses. Poe's glad of the break. It gives him a moment to catch his bearings and his breath. They've only been sitting all day, occasionally standing in the shade of the barn, but Poe feels like he's run a marathon. Something about Luke so close, so comfortable beside him heats his blood and scrambles his mind, and he's grateful to the distracting performance in front of him for bringing him back down to earth.

Luke arrives breathless and smiling a while later, bearing a cardboard pop flat as a tray. "I got you Pepsi, I hope that's okay," he says, passing over the blue can along with a burger and something that looks like glue on graham crust.

"It's fine. What's this?" Poe suspiciously prods the quivering gelatin with his fork.

"Flapper pie," Luke says happily, ignoring his burger and digging into his own piece. "It's amazing."

"If you say so." Poe opts to start with his burger. It looks safer.

"Don't knock it till you try it." Poe's pretty sure that rule doesn't always apply-as in the case of cyanide-but the pie hasn’t jumped off the plate by the time he's finished his burger, so he takes a hesitant bite.

"It's...interesting," he decides, sorting through the confusing mess of flavours.

"If it's that awful, pass it over," Luke laughs, "I wouldn't want to torture you on a first date."

Poe's world slips. "Is that what this is?" He asks, taking another bite of the pie. It isn't half bad, and looking at the meringue is better by far than watching Luke's cheeks flush.

"I'd thought it could be, yeah."

Poe looks up, startled to find Luke's blue eyes locked steadily on his. He coughs as bits of the pie crust take advantage of his vulnerable state and attempt to explore his trachea. "In that case," he says hoarsely, "I think I'll let you tackle the strange desserts."

"Looks like a good plan."

"It's not that it's bad," Poe says hurriedly, "I'm just not a meringue fan." He's feeling horribly unbalanced, and watching Luke eat isn't helping. He's not sure why 'going out' and 'being on a date' are so different in his mind, or why the word 'date' in Luke's mouth scares him so much, and the uncertainty of the whole situation is nearly more than he can take.

"Luke-" he begins, hoping that talking things out will somehow fix this awkward feeling, but Luke has already polished off the last of the pie and is getting to his feet.

"Well, we're on free rein now, so what would you like to see next?"

Several things flash through Poe's mind, none of them appropriate. He falls back on ignorance.

"I don't even know what my options are."

Luke spreads his arms expansively, encompassing the whole of the grounds "Anything! There are beer gardens, a tractor pull later, a midway crammed with horrible snacks at ridiculous prices, a petting barn filled with fluffy animals, and if you've seen all you need to see here, I'd be pleased to offer you the Skywalking Tour of Alder, map not included."

Poe laughs, "Maybe we could just walk around a bit?"

"With or without the tour?" Luke asks as Poe falls into step with him.

"Did you come up with that horrific pun all on your own?"

"It was Han's original," Luke admits, "after Leia and I dragged him out for a longer walk than he wanted."

The grounds are a riot of colour, light, and noise. Luke seems to know every second person they see which, considering that the place is packed, means they do more standing and talking about crops than they do walking. Poe loses count of all the names he's told, losing them in the dizzying array of elderly faces topped with bedraggled cowboy hats.

"How do you know everyone?" They've wandered around to the grandstand and stand leaning in the heavy white rail that marks the border of the racetrack. The sun has begun to set, painting the sky in an impressive tableau of purples, blues, and reds. Luke grins.

"It's a small town," he says with a shrug, "and I do a lot of work with farmers. Have you seen everything you wanted to see?" He asks.

"Yes." Which is true, since all he really wanted to see was Luke. Everything else was a bonus.

"Well," Luke consults his watch, "if you're up for it, the fireworks are in a half hour or so." A mischievous look crosses his face. "I know the best spot to watch from."

"I'll trust your judgement, it's been pretty good so far."

Poe feels a tiny thrill in his stomach as he follows Luke away from the crowd around the grandstand. The field between the stand and the barns is littered with the bodies of frightening farm equipment, standing like silent sentinels. Earlier in the day the maze of vehicles had been packed with small children climbing over the array of steel bars, calling delightedly to the old men who watched them, remembering old adventures. Now it was quiet, the swish of their shoes in the cool grass the only sound.

"This was my favourite place to come as a kid." Luke pushes open the back entrance of the big red petting barn. "Got my first puppy from here when I was nine."

They ascend a creaking stairway to the upper level of the barn. It's dusty and quiet, with the lingering scent of animals hanging in the still air. Poe is doing his very best not to imagine Luke playing with a puppy and failing miserably. Luke kicks a couple of old milk crates over to the wide west window, beckoning for Poe to join him.

"You can see the whole sky from up here," Luke says contentedly as Poe comes to stand beside him, "and don't have to deal with the crowds."

"Added bonus," Poe murmurs. Their arms are a hair's breadth away from touching, so close he can feel the warmth pass between them.

"We're a bit early, but it's a good sunset watching spot too."  
The discomfort grows in Poe's mind as they stand watching the sun sink behind the trees, casting it's last tendrils of light up to the clouds. He's torn between wanting Luke so badly he can practically taste it, and the uncertainty of what that might mean. He opens his mouth, about to ask Luke just what this is, when Luke starts to speak.

"I'm sorry about last weekend, Poe." The regret in his tone is soft in the semi dark.

"What for?"

"I, uh...I got a bit carried away."

"You did?" If one kiss by the dryer is carried away, Poe wonders what restrained looks like.

"Yes. I hope I didn't upset you."

Poe can't quite believe he's having this conversation. "I was a little confused," he admits, "but not upset. I kissed you, anyway," he adds, "it's not like I didn't...didn't want you to."

"Oh."

Now that he's started talking, it's hard to stop. "And I thought you wanted to, only then it just got...I don't know. Weird, I guess. I thought I'd blown it, but now we're here, and..." He trails off, unsure of how to say what he felt.

Luke's quiet laugh surprises him. "So I did need to apologize, just not for kissing you," he summarizes.

"No, you don't need-"

"Yes, I do." Luke turns to look at him at last, the final edges of the sunset drawing long shadows on his face. They're closer than Poe can take, the tang of Luke's cologne drifting subtly in the space between them. "You're right," Luke continues quietly, "I did want to." It's suddenly too warm in the barn, the air close and heavy. "I still do. Quite a bit actually." Poe swallows hard, trying to ignore the growing tightness of his jeans. "I just got scared. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you." Luke's fingers twine warmly into his. "I didn't-I don't-want to mess this up."

"Apology accepted, I guess."

They both jump as a flash of red lights the dusty barn, followed by a crack of powder that Poe can feel go straight through him. The cheers of the crowd are a distant buzz.

"So," Poe feels his heart pick up its pace as he watches Luke's face, bathed in blues, greens, vivid purples, "can I kiss you?"

Luke's answering smile glows under a shower of golden sparks. "If you want to."

It's slow at first, neither of them certain what to find in the contact. Luke's hand is rough, strong on Poe's jaw, guiding him closer. He still tastes vaguely sweet, the hint of meringue clinging to the corners of his lips. The fireworks snap and crackle in the darkness outside, raising goosebumps along Poe's arms as he feels Luke's tongue slip into his mouth. And even though there's nothing he should like about this dusty haired cowboy, when Luke's arms wrap around him Poe feels so warm, so safe, he can hardly take it.

The pause, when it comes, is a break in a mile long run. Poe's breathing is heavy as he stands in Luke's embrace, head resting on his chest, Luke's fingers threading through his hair.

"So, have I scared you off again?" He murmurs.

"Only...a little." The hitch in Luke's voice raises the hair on the back of his neck. Luke's throat is soft as Poe slides his mouth up to kiss him again, tender and light.

"What does that mean?"

Luke laughs, the sound giddy and breathless. "It means I don't want you to stop, unless...well unless you want to."

"I don't." Poe presses his hips forward, the feel of Luke hard against him stirring the growing heat in his belly. "I don't want to stop."

"Oh...alright, then," Luke gasps, his hands clutching at Poe's shirt.

Poe flushes at the sound of Luke coming apart under his hands and he shivers, needing more. Luke's atrocious belt buckle yields easily to him and he's rewarded by a low groan as he slips his hand down to grasp Luke's cock.

"Poe," The need in that single taut syllable burns in Poe's heart. He's about to drop to his knees, not caring a bit about the dust on the floor, but Luke tugs at his belt, stopping him, then sliding a hand down to cup him through the tightness of his jeans.

"Can I..."

"Yes." He wants to say more, wants Luke to know how badly he needs those rough hands wrapped around him, but Luke's lips are crushed against his and he's drinking deep, the words lost in the moan that escapes his throat.

The barn slips away, the distant crack of the fireworks fading into the background, burning away in the heat of their contact. Every nerve is on fire, each stroke of their hands feeding the blaze, and Luke's hips are lifting, jerking under his touch as he comes, hot and slippery in Poe's hand. He's gasping, leaning against the wall of the barn for support as his hand shudders, but doesn't stop, pushing Poe close to the edge. Luke's teeth on his lip push him the rest of the way, the sweet sting lifting him up on wide wings as the world dances and spins with each desperate thrust of his hips.

Luke's arms are steady around him, pulling him close, and they stand in the glow of the last fireworks, breathing heavily. "Are you alright?" The whisper in his ear, all satisfaction and concern, kindles a pleasant shiver under his skin.

"Mhm."

Luke breathes a contented sigh, every muscle softening under his hands. "Good."

Poe sinks into the embrace, his lips tracing a contemplative line along Luke's shoulder.

"I don't have to take you home tonight," Luke says softly, leaning his forehead against Poe's.

 

Poe shivers, his hands coming to rest at Luke's waist.

"Are you offering me your couch, or were you planning to stay here?"

Like smiles, laying an experimental kiss on Poe's forehead. "I was offering you my bed, but if you'd like the couch you’re welcome to it, no questions asked. I wouldn’t recommend the barn"

"That's very kind of you," Poe says, running his fingers along the waistband of Luke's jeans, "but I think I'd prefer the bed, if it's all the same to you."

"Well, it's certainly more comfortable," Luke teases, trying to keep his voice steady as Poe's hands quested beneath his tshirt.

"Company's better, too."

Luke laughs softly, "Come on," he reaches up to take Poe's hands in his, leading him back towards the stairs.

*

"I cannot believe that you have a four poster bed," Poe says as the bedroom door closes behind them. Luke smiles, still not quite believing that this is real. The drive out from town had been long, but infinitely more pleasant than their Sunday trip, Poe’s fingers knitted through his all the way. 

"It was my mother's," he replies, grinning as Poe presses him back against the door, running strong hands over his chest beneath his shirt. The deep pressure of that touch raises a tingling wave under Luke's skin and he sighs appreciatively, raising his arms to let Poe pull the tshirt over his head.

"You sure you're okay with this?" He asks, pulling slowly at Poe’s shirt.

"Yeah," Poe says, slipping from the garment, "yeah, I'm feeling pretty okay"

He looks up, a mischievous grin on his face as he palms Luke's growing erection through his jeans, "And you?"

"Oh, yes." The small vibration of his zipper coming open under Poe's hand echoes in the quiet room, making him shiver.

Poe’s jeans drop to the bedroom floor, and Luke takes his time admiring the sculpted lines of his body, tracing slow, speculative fingers through the soft hair on his belly. Luke's jeans follow and he watches in growing approval as Poe sinks to his knees, tugging Luke's underwear down with him.

He moans in pleasure as he feels the hot, moist press of Poe's mouth on the crease of his hip. Poe looks up, gently stroking Luke's thighs, a slight frown on his face.

"Am I...doing something wrong?" Luke asks, struggling for breath to speak.

"No, you're just...really liking this," Poe says in a voice of quiet wonderment, running his hands over Luke's hips.

"Well, yeah," Luke whispers, a hot tingling crawling up his body from Poe's hands, "it's ah...it's been awhile and-" he draws a sharp breath as Poe's tongue flicks over the base of his cock, "and that feels...ah...really good."

He feels a sudden rush of cool air as Poe comes back to his feet, then warmth as their bodies press together, the length of Poe fitting against him like one of those complicated logic puzzles Ben always liked to solve. He feels the press of Poe's erection against his belly through the fabric of his underwear.

"How long is 'awhile'?" Poe asks gently before trailing his tongue over Luke's collarbones.

"Can I plead the fifth?" Luke murmurs, fingers slipping beneath the band of Poe's underwear.

"We're in Canada, we don't have a fifth amendment," Poe says apologetically.

"Shit." Poe laughs softly, the breath rushing over Luke's shoulder, raising the hair on the back of his neck. "About seventeen years," Luke admits, glad that Poe's face is buried in the crook of his neck, so he doesn't have to hide the sudden fear in his heart.

To his surprise, Poe pulls him closer, humming with pleasure. "So I'm almost your first, then?" He asks, sounding pleased.

"You're only my third anyway," Luke says, smiling in spite of himself, "but yeah."

"Think you remember how?" Poe teases. His hands are warm on Luke's hips. Luke just pushes him back towards the bed, pulling at his underwear. Poe sits down heavily, a flush rising to his face as Luke kneels between his legs. "I guess we'll have to see." Luke licks leisurely along the length of Poe's cock, watches in delight as he lets his head fall back with a gasp. Luke can feel his own erection pressing against his belly as he takes Poe's cock in his mouth. Poe's moan of pleasure ignites a ball of hot fire in the pit of his stomach and he sucks harder, head bobbing in a steady rhythm.

He stops when he feels Poe's fingers curl into his hair, pulling gently. He gives one last teasing lick and looks up, heart quickening at the look of heady delight on Poe's face.

"I think maybe you might." Luke smiles at the tremor in his voice, laying a kiss on the tender skin at the inside of Poe's wrist before reaching into the drawer of his bedside table.

Poe's eyes widen as he sees the lube in Luke's hand. "Um..."

"Yes?" Luke comes up higher on his knees, arms wrapping around Poe, pulling him close. Poe's hands trail maddeningly along his shoulder blades.

"How...what do you usually..." Luke can hear a new, tense note in Poe's voice as he searches for words. Nervousness, arousal, or both, he can't tell, but the tender ache of need fills him at the sound and he softly kisses the hollow place behind Poe's ear.

"I want to feel you inside me, Poe," he whispers. The muscles of Poe's back are suddenly tight as a bowstring beneath his hands and Luke wonders for the space of a heartbeat if he's said too much, but heat Poe's next words put his fear to rest.

"I don't know if I remember." Poe pulls away slightly and Luke's stomach drops and the naked arousal in his face. Thunder rumbles overhead as Poe leans forward, his tongue sliding along Luke's ear. "Tell me?" Luke groans as Poe bites gently at his earlobe.

Luke's heart is pounding in his chest now as, with some effort of will, he pulls away from Poe's enticing warmth and climbs onto the bed. He lies back against the pile of pillows, making sure Poe is watching as he spreads his legs wide and holds out the lube. "Well, to start with you're going to need some of this."

The snap of the cap is suddenly loud in the quiet room. Poe kneels on the bed in front of him and Luke feels a twitch in his stomach as he watches Poe slowly warm the lube between his palms.

"On your dick." Poe bites his lower lip and Luke can hear him breathing heavily as he obeys, stroking himself.

"Stop." Poe freezes, his hands shaking slightly. "That's enough for now. Come here."

Poe crawls closer until he's kneeling between Luke's spread thighs and waits. Luke takes his time, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly over Poe's legs. "You'll need more." Poe grins as he squeezes more of the gel into his hand. Luke places his hands on his backside, pulling gently, and nods down at the exposed flesh. "Right there."

Poe doesn't bother to warm the lube this time and Luke's breath hisses into his lungs at the cold feel of it as Poe gently circles his ass. "Open me," he gasps, unwilling to wait any longer to feels Poe's fingers inside him.

The slick, wet sound of Poe slowly massaging him open burns into his skin like lightning, and he moans at the jolt of pleasure as Poe's finger brushes against his prostate. Poe's eyes are wild in the shadowed light of the bedside lamp and Luke can hear his ragged breathing as he carefully slides a second finger in. "More," Luke whispers breathlessly, shivering as Poe continues to stroke him.

"Lube, fingers, or both?" Poe asks, staring down at him, face flushed.

Luke reaches up, pulling Poe closer to steal a kiss. "All of it," he gasps, "all of you."

"Not yet," Poe murmurs, and Luke sees just how much he's enjoying the view as he slides another slick finger in. Luke can't keep from crying out as Poe's fingers curl inside him, and he feels a warm wetness begin to seep from his hard cock.

"I...I thought I was...giving the...directions-oh God, Poe, that feels amazing." Luke struggles to speak, his whole body burning with the searing heat growing in his belly as Poe pulls his hand away.

"I think I've figured things out," Poe replies, but Luke can't hardly hear him over the pounding of his heart.  
He can only nod, panting heavily as he watches Poe tilt his hips slowly forward, pushing the tip of his cock gently into him.

His whole body throbs with the thunder of his pulse and he doesn't even recognize the sounds coming from his own throat as Poe thrusts forward.

Poe is panting now, each heavy breath timed with the sweet pressure of his weight against Luke's thighs. Luke writhes beneath him, gasping and moaning at the surge of Poe's cock inside him, the utter ecstasy of being so completely filled.

"Luke...I..." Poe's voice is desperate, "I'm going to...I..."

"Don't...stop..." Luke moans, hands clasped tight to Poe's ass, pulling him deeper, thrusting up into him, every muscle clenched tight.

Luke cries out as he comes, back arched, trying desperately to hold on to the feeling, willing the moment to go on and on and never stop. Poe's breath comes in short, sharp gasps and Luke pulls him close, holding him tight as he thrusts once more, deeply, his orgasm shuddering through him before he collapses across Luke's chest, spent and shaking.

Poe's weight is solid and comforting on top of him as they lie there on the bed, Luke twining languid fingers through Poe's hair. Luke smiles.  
Poe turns his head, resting a cheek on Luke's shoulder and studying his face in the half light.

"So, I have to ask," he murmurs, tracing slow circles on Luke's chest with his clever fingers, "was it worth the wait?"

Luke brushes a strand of the dark curls aside, laying a soft kiss on Poe's forehead. "Oh yes."


End file.
